


If You Are a Cliffhanger Ending (I'm the One That Doesn't Know Anything)

by asexual-fandom-queen (writeordietrying)



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Episode Related, F/M, M/M, Mentions of Jewish Ray, Pining, Polyamory, Ray-centric, Spoilers Up to Camelot/3000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-27
Updated: 2017-02-27
Packaged: 2018-09-27 07:46:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9983777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writeordietrying/pseuds/asexual-fandom-queen
Summary: Ray’s track record with ill-fated romances is almost impressive, really, and what are the odds of him winding up in another disastrous love triangle, anyway?





	

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written anything in a really long time, and then as I was catching up on Legends over the weekend, this ship hit me like a ton of bricks to the face during Raiders of the Lost Art, so really, I just had to take my feels and run with them, right? 
> 
> Title taken from the song [Toes by Lights](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B4JABTb6v7k).
> 
> If you like this ship, or this fic, or my writing, or any combination thereof, be sure to leave kudos and comments. They nurture my otherwise cold and empty soul.

Movie night is what really clinches it. He’s sitting between a beautiful know-it-all of a man with hair you can’t help but want to run your fingers through, and a woman whose delicate bones dissemble the fact that, beneath it all, she is unbreakable, and in that moment, there’s absolutely nowhere else in time or space Raymond Palmer would rather be.

He is so screwed.

Ray’s track record with ill-fated romances is almost impressive, really, and what are the odds of him winding up in another disastrous love triangle, anyway? First it was Oliver Queen and Felicity Smoak, then it was Kendra and Carter -- and briefly Jax, maybe, sort of.

Now this.

Now Nate and Amaya.

To be fair, this is different from any of Ray’s previous experiences. He wasn’t pining after Oliver. He wasn’t pining after Carter. He’s definitely pining after Nate. Still, the end result is much the same -- a happy couple riding off into the sunset without him. It’s not even worth freaking out over the fact that Ray’s never had feelings for another man before. One, the relationship's not going anywhere anyway, and two, Ray knows enough about mathematical constants to accept that human sexuality isn’t one of them. So, he pictures strong, muscular arms holding him down and stubble between his thighs as much as he pictures soft curves and warm, slick folds when he’s got some time alone with his right hand? Ray can roll with that.

Realizing that he’s fallen for two people who have eyes for each other more than they’ll ever have eyes for him? Not so much something Ray can roll with.

The holiday party stings like a bitch. Not just because they’ve lost Rip, and his gluten-free stuffing tastes like wallpaper paste, and Sara can’t even be bothered to throw a cursory Happy Hanukkah into her toast -- not that Ray’s particularly observant anymore, but Stein is, and really, it’s only polite. No, what stings the most is that Ray has to watch Nate and Amaya blush and stammer and flirt circles around each other all night. Ray knows something’s happened, and his suspicions are confirmed later that evening when Nate asks to confide something in him, “bro to bro.”

It takes Ray aback how vehemently he wishes things were different. He wonders what would have happened if he hadn’t been caught in the ATOM suit, if he’d have gone with Nate and needed to fish him out of the river instead, or if Ray would have fallen in himself and left it up to Amaya to come to his rescue. Of course, it’s such a damn cliché, ripped straight from the pages of a trashy Harlequin romance, that maybe it was meant for Nate and Amaya specifically. Maybe it’s a sign from the universe that they’re meant to be together.

Still, Ray plays it cool. “That’s awesome, buddy,” he says. “So, are you gonna lock her down or what?”

It stings like Ray’s entire chest is on fire. It stings to the point that stinging doesn’t cover it anymore. It burns, like Ray’s drowning and on fire all at once, and his body prickles every place it isn’t numb -- his fingers, his throat, some elusive spot just behind his eyes.

There’s something off about Nate, too. It takes Ray a minute to realize what. Nate smiles and gushes like nothing’s changed, but he keeps his hands to himself. Ray feels empty and hollow, like if Nate were to suddenly start touching him again, the sound of his hand descending on Ray’s chest would echo through the ship like an old death knell.

It doesn’t matter. Nate doesn’t.

Ray tries to put the whole thing behind him. Nate’s back to normal the next day like nothing ever happened, like nothing shifted between them night before, and Ray vows to follow his lead. Camelot feels like an opportunity, especially when his knowledge of Arthurian legend wins out over Nate’s knowledge of history.

It makes Ray giddy to think of playing knight, a noble warrior, handsome, stalwart, and true. Amaya appreciates integrity and virtue. Nate likes when Ray is powerful. Ray doesn’t want to posture, but he finds he can’t help himself. This is all he has to contribute, all he has to prove himself with, and maybe Nate and Amaya don’t want him that way, but they can’t not want him at all, they just can’t. Ray can’t handle that.

Amaya’s too preoccupied with her friend from the JSA to notice the fool Ray’s making of himself, which is probably for the best. Ray admires her focus, admires her dedication and her fortitude. He remembers the woman ready to bare-knuckle her way out of Nazi imprisonment, even without the amulet that gives her her powers. Ray wants to be more like her, independent, capable, the kind of person whose value can never be taken by force, whose value is rooted intrinsically in who they are instead of what they have.

Admittedly, Ray does go slightly overboard with the whole knight thing. He’s willing to admit to that -- in hindsight at least. He’s never been more grateful to have someone yell at him for being an idiot, either. It’s probably because it’s Nate. Ray’s willing to admit to that, too.

Ray skirts around Nate and Amaya at the celebratory banquet once Camelot is secure, goes to see Guinevere and say his goodbyes instead. He ends up the interloper in another romance, so he apologizes to Sara by giving her the one piece of advice he wishes more than anything he could take for himself.

“Every good legend ends with a kiss.”

When they get back on the Waverider, Ray heads straight to his room. He knows Sara’s likely to call everyone to the bridge for a time jump soon -- it’s always the same with her, always on the move, always focused on the mission, though maybe she’ll finally settle now that they’ve found Rip and brought him home, even if he’s not the Rip they remember. Still, Ray wants time to himself. He wants to avoid Nate and Amaya after embarking on his suicide mission that wasn’t really a suicide mission, just an extremely overzealous attempt at heroism. He knows they’re angry at him. He’d feel guilty about it, but honestly, he can’t get passed being happy that they care.

“There you are.”

Ray doesn’t know why he bothered trying to hide. Of course they’d find him. They’re both there, outside his door, holding hands like either they’re a happy new couple or they’re deliberately trying to rub their relationship in his face.

“Hey guys, what’s up?” Ray asks instead of closing the door in their faces like he so desperately wants -- needs -- to do before he starts yelling, or worse, crying.

“We wanted to know if you’d like to watch a movie with us,” Amaya says.

“We’ve got a lot to catch Amaya up on,” Nate adds. He says _we_ like Amaya says  _we_ , and it makes Ray’s heart clench painfully in his chest.

Ray sighs. “I don’t know, I’m kinda wiped.” It’s not even technically a lie.

“Oh, come on, buddy,” Nate says. “We could have an _Alien_ marathon, debate who’d win in a fight between Ripley and Sara.”

“Sara would kick Ripley’s ass,” Ray says, so matter-of-factly it makes Amaya snort and Nate roll his eyes.

“Dude, please,” Nate tries again. “Our last movie date was so much fun.”

A shock of heat crawls up Ray’s neck and spreads across his cheeks. “Movie date?” Ray parrots.

Nate blushes, too, into the roots of his hair, and stammers like an adorable, flustered idiot. “Night. Obviously, movie night. Or just, you know, whatever you wanna call three people hanging out who really like each other. Platonically. Or maybe not so platonically, depending on the circumstances. I mean, what even is a date, if not a gathering of--”

“Yes, a date, Ray,” Amaya says, clear and succinct, cutting off Nate’s impressive display of word vomit, the likes of which Ray hasn’t seen since dating…

Ray has a type. Good to know.

But Ray isn’t thinking about how he has a type right now, because all he can think about is what Amaya’s just said and whether or not he’s suddenly developed some type of aphasia from all the blows to the head he’s taken.

“With me as a painfully awkward third wheel?” Ray asks, because he kinda feels like he has to. Even if they can’t really be saying what he thinks they’re saying, he needs to have that rejection spelled out in no uncertain terms.

“Well,” Nate says with an uneasy chuckle. “There  _will_ be three wheels. And, knowing you, probably some painful awkwardness.”

Ray shrugs lamely. It’s not like he can argue with that.

“But we are in the market for a tricycle,” Amaya adds.

Ray looks up at them both with wide, uncertain eyes. “Guys,” he says, voice raw with an edge of desperation. “You’ve gotta spell this out for me, okay. I don’t trust myself to extrapolate from the metaphor, lovely as it is.”

Amaya smiles. “We’d both like to date you, Ray,” she says. “And each other.”

“That is,” Nate adds, looking up at Ray uncertainly through his eyelashes, and Ray feels like he just might pass out. “If you’d like to date us, too.”

Then the ship’s alarm goes off.

Of course it does.

Ray, Nate, and Amaya stand rooted in place for a moment, like they can’t wrap their heads around what’s happening. Finally, Amaya says, “that sounds serious,” and Nate nods along.

“Okay,” Ray says. “Yeah, important alarm, I totally agree. Just, one thing first before we go check it out.”

Nate opens his mouth to ask what, but before he gets the chance, Ray grabs him by the hips and pulls him in for a firm, possessive kiss. Nate presses back immediately, with his mouth, with his whole body, but this kiss is short-lived. Ray pulls away and offers the same gesture to Amaya. Her lips are softer and fuller, but she reciprocates just as quick and is kind enough to bounce up on the balls of her toes to keep Ray from breaking his neck as he bends to her level.

“Alrighty, then,” Ray says, half in a daze, as he takes a step back and shakes himself. “Alarm.”

And honestly, it makes sense that Rip’s hijacked the ship and has their AI trying to kill them. It wouldn’t be a Tuesday without some new, terrible, near-death experience. Ray wants to be bothered about it, he really does.

But his lips are still tingling.  

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi on [tumblr](http://asexual-fandom-queen.tumblr.com/).


End file.
